


Sweet Kisses and Whiskey

by hit_the_books



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coy Sam, Crushes, Drinking Games, Drunken Kissing, First Kiss, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sam Is Almost A Complete Gentleman, Season/Series 12, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 04:22:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10632111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: The Banes twins are visiting the Bunker. Dean and Alicia bow out early from a game of Moose, but Sam and Max hang on until the very end.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for round 8 of the [SPN Rare Ships Creation Challenge](http://rareshipcreationschallenge.tumblr.com/). My prompt was the Moose drinking game. My partner was [rodiniaorzetalthepenquin](https://rodiniaorzetalthepenquin.tumblr.com/).

An old grandfather clock is ticking away in a corner of the library. Max plays with the quarter in his hand, rubbing it between his fingers. The Bunker is quiet at this late hour, Dean and Alicia having gone to bed an hour earlier. Dean had still been sober enough to help make up a bed for Alicia in one of the spare bedrooms.

Sam’s pretty sure he’s tipsy, but he’s not gonna let onto Max that he might have an advantage over him. He’s in this to win, even if it means disappointing the cute hunter-witch sat across from him with his gorgeous mouth and skin that looks so strokable-- _and I need to calm down, or I’m gonna lose_ , Sam realizes. Offering Max a happy smile, Sam tries to will away the inappropriate boner that’s making a sudden appearence.

Dean and Alicia had called it quits after about twenty minutes of trying to bounce a quarter into the ice cube tray, but Sam and Max are still going, and are more than six beer bottles a piece in. Sam’s not denying that he feels pretty tight right now, but he can’t stop staring at the way Max’s Adam's apple bobs whenever Sam manages to get the quarter to land in one of the “give” tray slots. It’s been awhile since anyone’s landed in the Moose slot, and Sam can’t stop wondering what it would be like to get Max’s lips to work on something that wasn’t the neck of a bottle.

The four of them in the Bunker is the first time they’ve hung out since Asa’s funeral. Earlier they’d been talking about the Banes getting to know their grandmother and Sam couldn’t help thinking how it seemed so easy for them to do that, in comparison to him getting to know his own mother. Alicia and Max had traded news on a few hunts they’d worked, explained how the BMoL had come calling and how they’d said “later”. Dean and Sam decided to skip over the part where they’d died, yet again. And a silent agreement between Dean and Sam seemed to keep mention of Lucifer’s love child out of the conversation. _They don’t need to be worried about that crap right now_ , Sam had thought to himself when he’d had less drink in him.

Now alone, together, for the first time in, well, ever, Sam can’t help thinking that maybe the looks he keeps catching from Max mean something more than just making sure he’s playing by the rules. Those dark eyes of Max’s make Sam feel like he is the only person in the world and that Max wants to do more than just look. That maybe he’d like to put those luscious lips to work somewhere else—

Max bounces the coin and it lands in a “moose slot”. The two of them scramble to be the first to make their hands be antlers either side of their head.

“MOOSE!” Sam shouts, fingers wiggling out from the sides of his hair.

Wiggling his own hands as antlers around his head, Max opens his mouth to say “moose”, but stops as he seems to register that Sam beat him to it. Wordlessly, Max reaches out for the moose cup at the end of the ice cube tray, that should be filled with some whiskey.

“Sam?” Max asks, voice a little hoarse still from the whiskey he’d drunk earlier that night after losing the moose part of Moose twice.

“Yeah?”

Max up ends the cup and nothing comes out bar a dribble of whiskey. They’d forgotten to refill the cup. “There’s nothing left.”

Licking his lips, Sam nods. “Uhhh—”

“What’s my forfeit?” Max asks, eyes on Sam’s lips.

Sam slowly points a finger to his own lips and gently blinks, eyes staying closed a little longer than normal. The chair Max was sat in falls to the floor, the crash making Sam snap his eyes open, and watch in surprise as Max steps to him bends over. Placing his hands on Sam’s shoulders, Max leans in and lightly presses his lips to Sam’s.

The contact makes Sam’s breath catch in his chest while his body practically vibrates with desire. Shakily, Sam reaches a hand up to Max and cups the back of his neck, pulling him closer and deepens the kiss. A breathy moan works its way up and out of Max, and Sam mirrors it. Just as Sam thinks they should stop, Max’s tongue teases in between Sam’s lips and Sam opens up to Max.

All Sam can hear is the rapid beating of his own heart as Max laps at him, tongue diving and delving, caressing and exploring Sam. Hard and aching, Sam opens his eyes a little and sees that Max is being similarly affected by their kiss. And maybe they could do something about that sometime, but for now, Sam’s happy to just press his mouth into Max’s and be devoured.

Max jerks away and lets out a loud belch. Chuckling, Sam rubs at the hand on his right shoulder. “Bed?” asks Sam. He’s pretty sure that both of them have drunk too much to do anything else more than sloppily kiss and hold each other. Plus Sam would want to be sure that Max really was on board for more before starting anything.

“Y—yeah. Bed,” yawns Max.

Stumbling to his feet, Sam loops an arm around Max’s waist and eases him out of the library and into the hallway that leads to the bedrooms, hard on calming down. A sober thought interrupts Sam, suggesting he should settle Max down in one of the spare rooms, but then tipsy Sam decides that Sam’s bed is fine. Sam takes Max to his room and helps him out with his boots.

“This y—your room?” Max asks, words slurring a little.

Sam nods. “Y—yeah.”

“I—it’s nice.”

“Thanks.” Sam gives Max a happy grin, which the other hunter returns.

Movements getting slower, they strip down to boxers and t-shirts. There’s no questions as they get into bed together, and it seems natural when Max ends up the little spoon. Drunk, happy and tired, Sam and Max drift off to sleep.

Moose sized hangovers awaited them in the morning, along with waffles, kisses and cuddles. Max surprisingly happy at waking up beside Sam, despite his terrible morning breath.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this. Kudos welcome and I will endeavor to answer all comments.
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr at [dreamsfromthebunker](https://dreamsfromthebunker.tumblr.com/).


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